


Dances with Vampire

by Rowaine



Series: Playtime [4]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 16:53:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3617223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rowaine/pseuds/Rowaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The Date". In capital letters. And quotational emphasis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dances with Vampire

  
  **Series:** Playtime  
  
**Title:** Dances with Vampire  
  
**Author:** Rowaine (rowained@yahoo.com)  
  
**Fandom:** BtVS  
  
**Rating:** This part is only FRM.   
  
**Summary:** "The Date". In capital letters. And quotational emphasis.   
  
**Warnings:** A little dose of schmaltz and standard issue babble.  
  
**Pairings:** Spike/Xander  
  
**Setting:** Definitely AU. I'm quite happy rewriting things to suit my own purposes. After all, you folks aren't here for the plot, are ya?  
  
**Disclaimer:** I have no legal rights to utilize Joss Whedon's (or anyone else's) characters. But since no one seems to be complaining...   


Information about the movie mentioned can be found [here](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0092890/). [savoytruffle](http://savoytruffle.livejournal.com/) recently finished a story called, appropriately enough, [Dirty Dancing Spander Style](http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=savoytruffle&keyword=My+fic:+Dirty+Dancing+Spander+Style&filter=all) \-- it made a big impact on me, combining my favorite movie with my beloved boys. So when I needed the imagery, of course it was the first thing to come to mind. 

 

**Dances with Vampire**

 

  
**Fall, 1997 -- that night**  
  
Standing a few steps away from his bed, Xander stared in amazement. He honestly hadn't realized just how many hideously bright shirts he owned. Each one a testament to his parents' apathy and penny-pinching attempts at spending the least amount of money they could get away with for his general welfare. And there was no way in this world (or any of the alternate dimensions he'd heard about) that Xander was willing to embarrass himself by wearing them to meet Spike.  
  
_No, I'm not looking for excuses to skip out. Not that I need an excuse, cus hello? Vampire! This is gonna end_ so _bad._  
  
Frustrated beyond belief, he stormed over to his dresser and yanked open the bottom drawer -- the one that held old clothes, usually used for mowing and outside work, where it didn't matter what covered. A pair of last year's jeans, washed so many times they were nearly white and way **way** too snug for comfort, and an equally worn t-shirt. Solid, russet brown, and as soft as a baby's bottom. _Now how many people go around feeling a baby's butt for comparison? That's just weird._  
  
He struggled with the jeans, almost having to lay down to pull up the zipper, but managed to get dressed and out the door by half past seven. He was actually pretty proud of himself: no matter how nervous he was about the upcoming "date" with a Master vampire, Xander remembered to grab his denim jacket and a handful of stakes, his house keys and wallet, and all without dropping a thing.  
  
More paranoid than usual, he kept up a brisk pace all the way to the theatre. Shadows seemed to follow him every step of the way, and the most benign sounds made him jump. _Yeah, this has got to be the dumbest thing I've ever done in my life. Going out with a vamp? After all those digs at Buff for dating Angel... But at least they were in an actual relationship. This thing with Spike is just. Sex. I think. I **hope**. Cus if not, I'm gonna go out coming. Which, y'know, isn't that bad a way to die, so hey, we all win here, right?_  
  
At the end of the block, he hooked a sharp right into the theatre's parking lot. It took a large amount of restraint to keep the skip out of his step, but Xander's internal mantra of _Don't mess this up -- Geeky Xan isn't here tonight_ encouraged an even pace, strong (if faster than usual) heartbeat, and straight shoulders. He might not feel like the coolest kid in school, but there was no way he was going to look like some kicked puppy either.  
  
Halfway to the front steps, he stopped. So suddenly he almost tripped over his own feet.  
  
Spike stood at the corner of the building, leaning against the brick wall and smoking. He looked like a punk version of the Marlborough man -- long and lean and... self-possessed. _Wow, guess I paid attention to one of those inspirational infomercials. But the term fits. This is one vamp who knows exactly what he's capable of, how good he looks, how tough he is... Freakin' hell, if he was any more self-assured (cocky!), he'd need a separate pair of painted on jeans for his ego._  
  
When his legs had voted to overrule his brain, Xander didn't know. He couldn't remember walking the last fifty feet, couldn't remember taking a step up onto the sidewalk, couldn't remember a single moment when he'd ever been affected by another person quite as much as right then.   
  
"Evenin' pet. Glad to see ya." Spike's tongue touched behind his top teeth, a slow smile curving one side of his mouth. He flicked away his cigarette and crammed both hands into the front pockets of his jeans. Obviously, the blonde's jeans had some sort of warped space age engineering going for them, defying the laws of physics that promised 'no two objects can occupy the same space.'  
  
Xander's hard-won level of mock cool evaporated, and his head ducked down to hide an unwanted blush. "Hey," he croaked, then cleared his throat to try again, "Nice night, huh?"  
  
A scarred eyebrow lifted. "So we're gonna do the small talk bit then. 'Salright, I can do that." Spike grabbed the boy's left hand and placed it in the crook of his right elbow. "Let's find someplace a tad more... intimate, yeh?"  
  
Leading the boy a few blocks away from the movie house, he kept up a low key string of conversation. School, friends, TV shows and even comic books, all topics that he seemed easy with, able to discuss on Xander's level. They even touched on some of the recent demon attacks -- much to the boy's surprise -- with Spike offering praise or criticism for the way such beings had been handled.  
  
Xander found himself truly enjoying his time with the blonde. And if that little voice kept making itself known, reminding him _This isn't a date... it's a suicide mission! You can't really want to boink the undead, Alexander Harris._ , well, he'd had some practice at shutting it up.  
  
Off the main path and down two _darker, oh so not good_ alleys, Spike stopped them in front of a solid metal door. Xander couldn't see a single plaque or sign to indicate where they were, but before his nerves had a chance to overload, the blonde raised his fist and rapped out a quick beat. The door opened almost at once, and Xander finally understood where they were. Or at least what type of place it was.  
  
Spike -- the Master vampire, the youngest and deadliest of the Scourge of Europe -- was taking him...   
  
Dancing.

~ * ~

  
  
Just after their tenth grade ended, Willow and Buffy had dragged him over to the Summers' house for a weekend of junk food and movies. The line-up was girly to the extreme, and yeah, he'd made a few token complaints. But he'd also developed a taste for certain types of films because of it. _Dirty Dancing_ was high on the list. Because, damn, what Patrick Swayze could do with his hips should be classed as adults-only. He barely caught himself from saying that out loud -- the disapproving, horrified, or 'I'm so blond that I must ask for explanations' looks on his closest friends' faces just wasn't worth it.  
  
Still, after the obligatory protests, Xander had settled back in Joyce's overstuffed recliner to watch the movie. Swayze moved like liquid sex, and the scorching heat in his eyes made Xander's jeans uncomfortably tight. Long after the girls had gone to bed, he fast forwarded the tape to one specific scene -- the dark, smokey club -- and pulled a light blanket over his lap to conceal the quick jerks as he finally found sweet release.

~ * ~

  
  
It took very little effort for Spike to lure the darling boy into his arms on the dance floor. After a few nights at the local teen dive, the Bronze, Spike was convinced that he needed a less... offensive place to finalize his seduction plans. He was proven right almost immediately -- the boy seemed happy to melt into his embrace as the first few lines beat a sultry tempo around them.   
  
Every town had a place like this. Dark and smokey, with a mixed group of pairings (whether it be gender or demonic), that placed more importance on discretion than drawing a larger crowd. A Lil' Slice of Heaven was what the sign said at the front entrance, making Spike snort the first time he'd seen it. Still, if it did its job in helping relax the boy, he could forgive the corny title.  
  
Two hours later, he led Xander back out into the night. The boy had shown more talent than what Spike had witnessed the few times he'd caught the Slayer and her friends dancing frantically to the crap they played at the Bronze. _Gotta remember to ask him where he learned it._   
  
Now, with a blissfully warm human hanging on his arm, all Spike wanted was to drag him back to his lair and ravish the mortal's willing flesh. A quick flick of his eyes showed the streets free of other pedestrians, and he pulled the boy down a side street.   
  
Xander's heart didn't even have the time to speed up before he was pinned to the wall. His eyes widened, then fell shut in pleasure as cool, sweet lips took their first taste of his mouth. He vaguely remembered guessing how Spike would kiss... but none of his fantasies could compete with the reality of it. The vampire tasted of tobacco and whiskey, with a faint coppery flavor he knew to be blood, and the tangy sweetness of pink lemonade. That last bit almost made him laugh at the incongruity of a soulless demon drinking kool-aid. Almost, until Spike nibbled his way across Xander's lower lip before slipping his tongue inside.  
  
Slow and gentle, Spike explored his boy's mouth, only pulling away to keep the fragile human lungs from oxygen deprivation. "Oh pet, could spend all night just kissing ya." He proved the point by letting his tongue trace lazy circles from lips to earlobe, giving the boy time to breathe properly while Spike took note of each shiver and moan. "Ya ready for more, Xan? Ready to see how good I can make ya feel?"  
  
He didn't have to think about it - the answer was definitely yes. No matter what his inner voice wanted to scream, Xander knew he wouldn't pass up this opportunity. Even if it cost him his humanity. "Yeah. Show me, Spike. Show me everything."  
  
Sparkling blue eyes flickered briefly with golden flecks. Things never went so smoothly for Spike, but he wasn't about to question his good fortune. Here was his boy, primed and ready to be taken, used however Spike saw fit. And all it had cost him was a couple of weeks worth of pacing and a few naughty trinkets. Who said he couldn't use a bit of patience when the situation called for it?


End file.
